Behind Closed Doors - A ChrisTOPHER fanfiction
by Missbexiee
Summary: After a harrowing elimination ceremony, Chris extends an act of goodwill to his number one fan, Topher. The two journey together to a surprise as Chris attempts to make a boy's dreams come true - but through this, both will learn more about the other... both personally and physically. Short ChrisxTopher one shot, hurray for shipping!


**Hey everyone! My first Total Drama Fanfic is here! I've never written it before, but I love the show and I love the new season of characters... mostly Topher and Ella (which I also ship).**

** _WARNING: This ship contains gayness and if you don't like it... you've been warned._**

** I apologize to my other stories, I swear once my summer projects are done I will get on my Frozen fic and satisfy all you Helsa fans and I might work on some of my Naruto fics too. I am sorry. I am a busy girl. ;)**

** If anyone needs some background on this story, well, Tumblr. Hahah, I was surfing around after *SPOILER* Topher got eliminated (still really sad about that) and found a few cool headcannons that got my own head rolling and I came up with this. It's supposed to be ridiculous, I was trying to play with that. But I'm pretty happy with the product and hope you all enjoy it.**

** Please leave a critique or a comment... I LOVE THEM. :D**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Topher or Chris... I also do not own Total Drama or its other versions.**

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"Topher," the name attracts the ears of a young dirty blonde, "how old are you?"

The words come from no one else but the boy's idol. He stares up at the older male in adoration before finding the words on his eager tongue, "I'm eighteen! And it's really great to -"

"That's _great_," the tone of the raven haired man comes off sarcastically... though not enough to phase the energetic teenager.

"Hey, Chris, we're done with challenges today... do you, um, think you could give me some tips? I mean you _are_ the absolute greatest!" Topher scratches the back of his neck as Chris holds his vicious tongue.

Why was this boy so obsessed with him? Sure he was the host of a hit reality competition show, but this infatuation bordered on something else. Chris looks back at the young boy... and he really _is_ young. He is just so eager, so positive that things will work out for him.

Chris can't help but chuckle slightly to himself. This boy is _exactly_ like him. The only difference between the two of them are the years and experience separating their persons. His eyes, though a lighter shade, hold the same spark as the successful celebrity. His hair, though a different style and color, swoops the same as his with such ease and attention to care.

The host sighs, "fine... you can come back to the editing room with me," before the younger boy has a chance to squeal Chris quickly adds, "and _that's_ it." His eyes scan the empty hilltop used for elimination ceremony. Only an empty bag of marshmallows and the embers of an extinguished fire remain. He shouldn't be doing this... not with anyone. _Not with a contestant_.

Topher nods silently but not without a large grin plastered onto his flawless mug. The wilderness surrounding them begins to darken in the setting sun. Leaves, animals, and bugs all get ready to rest after the tiring barrage of competition forced upon the land. It is a truly beautiful island... almost too beautiful. Just a mere picture of it would have one believe it comes from a professional postcard.

The energetic boy's happiness does not flounder as the winding path to the concrete building lengthens. Both the men stay silent. Chris can't help but eye the boy behind him, this time not out of spite or jealousy, but something even more peculiar. He liked this boy, to an extent. Through all his brown-nosing, back handed compliments and ease at which he attempted Chris's job, the kid was warming up to him.

"Topher..." again butterflies fill the stomach of the boy as his name is called once more, "are you popular in school?"

"Who? Me?" His laugh lets out an outrageous snort as if the question were so stupid no one could ever propose it, "I..." his smile fades for a moment as he finally comes to consider the question, "I mean, people know me."

But did they _like_ him? Chris could only wonder. Even with his personal millions and celebrity status the memories still manage to taunt him. Memories so fickle and superficial they should mean nothing to a grown man. But still, they eat away at him. He lets the night air absorb the answer as his own memories consume him. Being called old... Topher knows exactly what kind of block he was chipping at with Chris. The words hurt.

The host looks quickly for cameras hiding in the trees lest they capture his weakened, self conscious self. Chris decides to shake the memories of his childhood... of him being taunted for his dreams and obsessions with the rich and famous. Of him committing the same crimes thrown at him to his first mentor. Topher's eyes only see the prize, not the trail of regret laying around it.

The young boy's demeanor shifts in the darkness, "Uh... are we almost there, Chris?"

"Yea," he coughs, cutting off all his thoughts.

The dirt path grows darker and more traveled as the outline of a large concrete block grows nearer in the distance. It isn't nearly as nice as his other editing rooms, but they had only built it a few weeks ago. No interns or workers litter the sparse room as the duo enters the spacious workplace. They must all be on their way home.

Chris flips a few lights and the room illuminates. The light that fills the large area also fills the eyes of the young wannabe. He stares in awe at the large TV screens, the papers littering a lone desk with ideas and challenges. His eyes fight for a single target but are torn right to left with electronics, buttons and microphones.

It's everything he's ever dreamed of.

"This is where the magic happens," Chris continues to watch the boy steadily, from afar. Collecting his movements as the weight of the day begins to bare down on him.

"Wow... it's..." Topher's mouth is agape with reverence, "it's really cool, Chris."

Chris turns to Topher, and for the first time as far as the host can tell his words are sincere. A smile purses the man's lips, "It's really not that cool... it's a lot of work."

Topher's finger drags up and down a blackened television screen, "One day... I hope to be just like you," he turns slightly his tight shirt skimming his toned body, "You know, when I was younger, you really inspired me to... to take a leap and start acting."

"School drama club?" Chris laughs likening his own childhood to Topher's. His hands click open a small mini fridge beneath his main desk, cool air pours out as he reaches for a carbonated beverage.

"Yea, well," Topher begins to reminisce, "I was never big on acting... but just having people look up to my beautiful face and pay attention to me was everything I could ever dream for!"

Chris breaks the soda's seal, placing his lips on the aluminum ring as the cooling beverage slides up to the top, "I was the same way."

The young boy's stomach growls. Eating only berries and a few fast food prizes here and there have made him quite ravenous for any food coming into his view. His team had lost today and wasn't rewarded a tasty treat... that soda could be his only chance.

And Chris sees it. He should never have brought the kid here anyways. So if he's going to break one rule, why not break them all? The host brings out another drink from the fridge and tosses it Topher's way.

"You're really cool," his face starts to blush as words start to vomit out of his mouth in a moment of panic, "I always get really nervous around you... Back home I made this huge blog about you, I mean I know how that sounds really strange and, well, creepy but I really just," his voice trails as his feelings get the better of him, "For some reason, everything I was doing began revolving around you. _You_, this guy who could care less about me, who didn't even know me at the time. It sounds so stupid."

Chris sits there, silently, listening to the boy in the empty room.

Topher's thoughts swirl as he internally beats himself for even opening his mouth about anything. _How stupid can I get_? The boy hurls nasty insults at himself, wishing he could reverse time and take back the stupid, stupid words he just said to Chris.

"It's not stupid," Chris's words fill the empty room, they almost echo.

"It's not?" Topher looks up from his hands where he had exiled his eyes to.

"No, it's not," Chris feels this young boy slowly crawling into his heart, pangs of sympathy ring out, "That probably took a lot, revealing to your hero what you think," Chris places his hand on his chin, trying to place his next few words, "I can only be honored to be that hero."

Topher's face turns red once more, his body gets hotter and his face submits to a mixture of fear and excitement, "Thanks..."

Chris moves to a red velvet couch that they had placed in the editing room last minute. Its cushions are plush and the the color simply vibrant. He places his drink on a side table.

"Can I ask you something, Chris?"

"Is it a fan question?" The experienced man opens himself, "Go for it."

"Why," Topher stumbles for the words, "Why do you never have a partner at any events? You're always single... always there by yourself, even though you could probably have _anyone_."

The question comes as a shock to Chris. Only someone truly watching him could possibly pick up on something so detailed, "I-I, uh," he coughs to settle himself, "Have _you_ ever had a girlfriend?"

"Me?" The shock passes to Topher, "Um, well... no. I've never had _time_."

Chris nods, "Yea... time."

A pace quickens within Topher and a nervousness never usually tapped within the boy starts to boil,"W-well... I've never told anyone this. But, um," the words flee him. His teeth shut on each other as his secret seeps deeper within him refusing to make its debut, "Chris, I've never felt a connection with a girl before."

"Well don't look to me for dating advice," he says the words with a smile even as the secret hiding deep within him attempts to claw its way out of.

The boy nervously wrestles with his hands, terrified that his idol will think differently of him. Terrified he won't find the words. Terrified everyone will know and judge him for it.

Chris raises his hand, motioning Topher to join him on the velvet couch.

Topher tries to lessen the tension of the room with his joking, "Is this like a casting couch, Chris...? I thought my audition was over."

The host smiles as the young boy sinks into the couch. It's the most comfortable thing he's touched since arriving on the natural island. He turns to look at Chris, this man who, though aged, still manages to look so perfect. Every cut of his jaw, all the small prickles of his growing bread. The young boy observes him carefully almost as if it were a sport.

"Topher, I have a secret for you... though you need to promise not to put it on any blog of yours."

"I promise, Chris! I once met Sierra at a TD convention, her blog was so extensive mine seriously paled in comparison. I vow to leave the blogging to her," the boy smiles so innocently Chris is forced to blush.

He laughs, trying to settle his unnerving emotions. Feelings fight for control in the older man's body. His lips mumble words, technically mere sounds of letters.

"W-what did you say Chris?" The young boy leans in slightly, the plush cushion between them shortening in length as their body weight slowly becomes one large dent on the couch. Topher begins to feel lifeless as his nervousness begins to finally make sense to him. He eyes the chiseled chin of the host, with a swift cleft line drawn through the skin.

But his eyes drift to the lips. The soft, plush lips of a man who knows to use lip balm.

"I... said," his voice is soft, but his eyes look up to begin noticing the subtle beauties of Topher. The two connect. Brown eyes with green eyes. Lush lips with... _lush lips_.

Chris is the first to move – fitting that the elder take the role of the master. His hands slowly place themselves on Topher's slender waist as his mouth dips down to reach the peachy lips of the young boy. Sparks pierce Chris's being as the mouths of the two gorgeous males meet.

Topher feels as if he may throw up with glee, something awful to think of while deep interlocked with one's idol. Everything makes sense, this lost boy's desires answered so easily with the embrace. Did Chris know? Could he tell?

The announcer's head pushes further into the boy's, their tongues dancing quicker as they poke into the other's mouth. A moan emits from Topher's busy lips. He has never felt this way, he has never embraced this way. _He has never been this way_... and yet, it feels so perfectly, so wonderfully right.

Seconds turn to minutes, minutes turn to an hour as the two Canadian males continue to play tonsil hockey. Topher's hands absorb the slender but masculine figure of Chris for the first time in his young life. Chris on the other hand is no stranger to this game. Whether with an intern, in secret with friends, or at a dark club the host has always managed to satiate his thirst for the same sex.

After what seems like hours of melting into the other, Chris pulls back to break his aching mouth from further use. Topher is either a great kisser or Chris is just desperate to be with the boy. Either way both fall away completely satisfied.

"W-wow," Topher blinks, figuring he must be in some sick twisted dream, "Chris..."

Reason, regret, all these things Chris had previously ignored in his love drunk craze suddenly come to crash down on him. How could _he_ be so stupid? His head shakes as he quickly removes himself from the warmth of Topher and stands to get away.

"You need to leave. You're a contestant... I can't do this. You can't do this," his hands ring through his silken hair anxiously as he curses himself further, "I... this is all a mistake!"

Topher finds himself erect from the couch as well, almost heart broken. His idol, barely even an hour in his arms... already backing out. Leaving him. Each word that exits the host's mouth comes out not cool and collected as usual, but like spit with a certain malice that drives through the young love struck boy like a dagger.

"Chris! Don't be like this! We can come out, we can tell the world, we-"

"No!" He shakes his head, "No we can't! I have a TV show!" Something compels the man from deep within. In his frantic movements he moves to clasp Topher's soft face once more dipping in for a long, passionate kiss. The two moan as their embrace connects once more they fit like little pieces in a large puzzle, finally becoming one after so much time spent searching. Chris removes himself again, "No! Dammit, Topher... you need to leave."

The emotions swirl tirelessly in the adolescent, "Y-you... you can't do this to me Chris. I really like you, and that kiss only makes it seem like _you_ like _me_."

Chris can only turn to look at the sad boy. What was he doing? Breaking an admirer's heart. Leading him on. The boy's shaded green eyes seem ready to water over at any second. Chris liked him, just as Topher described. They were similar, they had the same desires. But _he_ was a _contestant_.

"You need to leave."

The words come out cold and an icy breeze permeates the young boy. His idol has rejected him... his hero is _ashamed_ of him. Topher's bottom lip begins to quiver in the swirl of everything happening in his life. People in school make fun of him, no one ever believed he could become anything. His mother has given up, even his cat has better things to do than humor him. All he has is Chris, this man who inspires him... this man who was supposed to get him on television.

Chris shakes his head, detaching himself from everything. He isn't here for relationships, especially not with barely legal boys. He is here to get paid, to make good TV. He carefully watches his steps as he moves towards his desk, preparing himself for tomorrow's narration.

_That's it_. The words ring through Topher's spinning head. Chris is done with him, he will never get a show and prove all those people wrong. His hand rubs his wrist as his feet begin to drag along the concrete floor nearing the exit of the room.

Something catches his eyes, however. Sitting almost like a relic on a stone podium is Chris's phone. A fancy next generation model, gleaming under the harsh interior lights of the room. Topher slyly eyes over at Chris, the man is sucked into his work and obviously trying to ignore his number one fan. His fingers move in calculated manner, silently wrapping themselves around the keys and buttons of the fancy device.

He can use this. He can call the producers. He can show Chris who's boss.

He can change everything.

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** Dun. Dun. DUN! There it is, my little one shot ChrisTOPHER fanfic. I hope you liked it and even if you didn't I love reading comments and really appreciate it so go for it! ;)**

** ALSO, to all my creative bunnies (lol) I could not find ONE picture for this story... not ONE of Chris and Topher. I literally spent an hour surfing Tumblr and Deviantart but no dice! **

**_If anyone wants to make a picture I will gladly put it up for this story, I totally encourage your creativity! _**


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